


I've Got You - Updated!

by thINKture, Wetislandinthenorthatlantic



Series: Rare Pair Bingo [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anthea is the Best PA, Creepy Moriarty, F/M, Light BDSM, Mollcroft, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Soulmates, rare pair bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thINKture/pseuds/thINKture, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic/pseuds/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft has been on suppressants for two decades but after Sherlock announces he has found his soul mate Mycroft decides to let fate take its course and see if he has a soul mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mycroft Gives In

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a prompt for Sherlock Rare Pair Bingo! I quickly wrote and posted the first chapter while on Holiday, but it needed to be revised. After writing the rest of the story I sent it over to my partner-in-Mollcroft mischievousness -- thINKture -- who once again worked her magic!
> 
> Neither of us own these characters. This work is purely for entertainment. 
> 
> **I set the rating at Teen because nothing is really that bad in this story (I have tagged everything just to be on the safe side) but if anyone feels the rating should be upped let me know and I'll fix it.****
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Prompt: soulmates

It had been a long day and now, finally, Mycroft Holmes was standing in his bathroom brushing his teeth.

Reaching for the tube of toothpaste, his hand disturbed the bottle of suppressants causing it to clatter into the white porcelain sink, the remaining pills rattling in the half-empty bottle.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up the bottle and, toothbrush still in his mouth, turned the bottle over in his hands.

Six months ago - on Christmas Day - he had made the decision to stop taking the pills.

Both Sherlock and Mycroft had gone home to be with their parents for Christmas last year. The four of them spent the time together having the usual laughs and arguments that parents with grown children have.

It was familiar and comfortable, as much as Mycroft was loathe to admit it.

Shortly after Mummy had passed around glasses of her famous mulled wine on Christmas Eve, Sherlock stood by the fire and nervously cleared his throat.

"Before we go much further, I have something I should tell you."

Sitting in the leather armchair, Mycroft watched as his younger brother looked down at his feet, then his wine glass, and then nervously looked between his parents.

"As you all well know I have never put much stock into the ridiculous concept of soulmates ...."

Sitting on the sofa, Mummy Holmes had sensibly put her glass on the side table when Sherlock stood up. Her eyes fixed on her youngest, she gasped and clutched her husband's hand. She had waited decades for either of her sons to even mention soulmates.

Taking another deep breath, Sherlock continued, "Despite my best efforts at ignoring the signs, my soulmate has made himself known to me. It's early days but ..."

His sentence was cut short as his mother raced across the room and enveloped her youngest son in a hug. A mock grimace appeared on Sherlock's face, unsuccessfully hiding his grin as he was subjected to wet kisses from his happily crying mother.

Eventually he was able to share the few details he had found out over the recent months about his soulmate: military man, doctor, and recently returned from Afghanistan.

Later that evening, Mycroft gently knocked on Sherlock's bedroom door.

"Come in."

"Congratulations, brother. You must be pleased." Mycroft tried to sound happy.

"When did you stop taking the suppressants?"

Standing beside Sherlock's bed, Mycroft was tempted to laugh at the sight of the adult Sherlock's lanky frame folded up in his childhood bed reading.

"I didn't." Sherlock didn't look up from his book.

Mycroft frowned. "I don't understand."

"In rare cases the bond is so pure that suppressants cease to work. Apparently I am a ‘rare' case."

"Indeed you are. And you are sure? There will be no ... "

"Yes. It is a male. There will be no children."

"I see," replied Mycroft quietly.

Due to the nature of his work, Mycroft had been offered suppressants to ensure career stability. Once the Visions began, people would often journey halfway round the world and be gone for months at a time to search for their soulmate. In his position, this would not be acceptable.

Over the years, Sherlock had purchased black-market suppressants secretly in hopes that if he took them long enough, he would no longer be able to connect with anyone and he would be spared what he considered a normal and tedious existence as a family man.

But fate had intervened and even Mycroft had to admit his brother looked happy and content with the outcome.

"So brother mine, any heirs and fulfilling Mummy's dream of being surrounded by grandchildren is now entirely up to you."

//

It was later that night, staring at his favourite teddy bear on the shelf in his own childhood room that Mycroft gave into the jealousy caused by his brother having found his soulmate, and the sense of obligation to produce an heir. He finally decided to stop taking the suppressants and allow his soulmate to appear.

Although he had been taking the suppressants for nearly 20 years, Mycroft had secretly kept abreast on all the current research.

He knew exactly what happened just prior to the Visions: there would be an overwhelming smell of lilacs followed by a feeling of sinking into a purple mist. A person would then see through the eyes of his soulmate and experience her or his feelings and occasional thoughts for anywhere between 10 to 60 minutes.

During the Vision, a person could pick up clues as to the soulmate's identity. These visions would increase in strength and intensity closer to the moment the soulmates would finally meet.

//

  
Another sigh and Mycroft finally put the pill bottle in the back of a drawer, finished brushing his teeth and crawled into bed.

It had been six months with no suppressants. Although he knew that the human body took six week to completely flush the suppressants out of its system, he had still been disappointed when no Vision appeared after the first month.

By the fourth month, Mycroft asked Anthea to collect as many research papers as possible about the effects of long-term suppressant use. The outlook was grim - it was quite likely that Mycroft's soulmate had been ready years ago and, upon not finding a match, the link had just simply vanished.

He had officially given up. Tomorrow he would flush the pills down the loo and he would continue with his soulmate-free life. It was obvious that with or without the suppressants, he no longer had anyone out there waiting for him.

Flicking off the light next to his bed, Mycroft rolled onto his side and snuggled down into his pillow.

Slowly the smell of lilacs wafted over him. At first he ignored it, thinking the smell was his imagination playing tricks on him.

By the time he felt himself falling into the purple mist, it was all he could do to keep his wits about him.

"It's happening .... It's finally happening ..."

 _Pay attention, Mycroft .... Pay attention_! He shouted in his mind just as the purple mist enveloped him.

//

Mycroft was standing in the middle of his kitchen drinking coffee and still in his robe and pyjamas while watching BBC News 24 when Sherlock appeared.

He simply flicked an eyebrow at Sherlock as he raised his coffee cup to his lips.

"So you aren't dead."

"No."

"I went to your office at 9:30 am and Anthea said you had called in sick. You have never 'called in sick' in your life. I assumed you were dead so I came over to rifle through your things."

Mycroft made no retort to the snide comment. "I am neither dead nor ill. Today I am taking a personal day or what Anthea called a 'duvet day.'"

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock opened the cupboard and took out a mug then poured himself coffee before really looking at his brother who was once again watching telly.

"Not dead. Not ill. But in need of a 'duvet day…'"

As soon as Mycroft's gaze flicked from the TV to the younger man, Sherlock knew in an instant what had happened.

"When?"

"Last night," replied Mycroft quietly. "I had given up. Assumed it was too late."

"And?"

Mycroft took a deep breath while desperately hoping Sherlock's powers of deduction didn't include mind reading. While most people passively watched during the Visions, Mycroft had been able to gather a few vital bits of information. He currently had a small team investigating Dr Molly Hooper, the very pathologist who followed his younger brother around like a puppy, to confirm if she was the woman in his Vision last night.

"As you well know, I don't remember much. It was just the first Vision but it's a woman. Mummy will be pleased." Mycroft gave Sherlock a small smile.

"Now go. My days of solitude are numbered. And don't say anything to Mummy."


	2. And So It Begins ...

Molly scrunched her eyes closed and stretched her arms over her head. Then she straightened and stretched out her legs and pointed her toes. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, she let her eyes slowly open and her bedroom come into focus.

  
For the first time in months, the coil of nervousness in the pit of her stomach had begun to unravel.

It had finally happened. After months of what could only be considered wisps, a full Vision had appeared. All hope was not lost – and Molly was desperately relieved.

//

Molly rushed into the crowded cafeteria and looked frantically around. Spying her friend Meena at a table near the back, she waved and hurried towards her.

"So! Tell me your news!" exclaimed Meena as she handed Molly a cup of milky tea.

"It finally happened! Last night – a proper Vision!" A huge smile had been on Molly's face all morning.

Relief flooded Meena's face as she reached across the table and gave her friend a hug, "I am so happy for you. I knew it would eventually happen I knew it would. Tell me ALL about it."

Taking a deep breath Molly tried to figure out where to start. Talking to her best friend suddenly made it seem more real. After months of worry that something was wrong, she was finally coming round to the idea that her Soulmate was on his way.

When her Visions started six months ago but they had been very dim – no heavy smell and the purple mist barely surrounded her. Sometimes she would see only shadows or feel more of an essence of her soulmate rather than anything tangible. Over the months she had only managed to find out two things about him; He worried constantly. About everyone and everything; and it felt like he could see everything.

Throughout the months of worry, Meena had provided Molly a sympathetic ear and truth be told Meena was just a relieved as Molly was that the Visons seem to now finally be starting.

"Last night I saw inside his wardrobe. The suits were incredible. He seemed to be getting ready for some sort of reception that he didn't want to go to. He was dressed in a tux - his watch has two faces. He can flip the face – he changed it to the dark face before he left."

"Oh! I saw an ad for that watch last week! It's a Jaeger LeCoultre – very posh!" announced Meena excitedly.

A quick flush of crimson filled Molly's face at the thought that her soulmate might be posh.

"I bet he was taking suppressants due to his job. Sounds like they are finally wearing off," Meena gave Molly a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it will all go like clockwork now. You will meet him before you know it."

Nervous. Relieved. Excited. Molly was all of these as she hoped what Meena was saying was true.

Over the years Molly hadn't followed her friends and become trapped in the "Soulmate Obsession" - taking quizzes in magazines, reading the latest bestseller about famous people and how they had found their soulmates, or visiting fortune tellers in hopes of taking a bit out the mystery (and in Molly's opinion, the magic) away. Early on, she had decided to leave it all up to fate but now she was regretting she didn't have any more knowledge about the Soulmate process than what had been taught to her in secondary school Health class.

"What if I can't find him? I mean, how will I know my Soulmate when I meet him? What happens if I end up with some random guy and miss my Soulmate completely?" stammered Molly. "You're an endocrinologist, Meena. I know you know what happens and please don't tell me I'll 'just know.'"

Meena decided to start at the beginning.

"As you know the process of Soulmates meeting is called Coupling. When the two souls meet after the search, there is a marked connection. Some describe it as a flash of light with a loud pop. Others say it feels like being struck by lightning – or maybe Cupid's arrow is more appropriate." Meena gave Molly a big smile.

  
"There has been no correlation discovered between the intensity of the Visions and the Coupling. Test subjects with relatively average length and depth of Visions experienced a powerful Coupling, while for others the opposite is true."

Meena scrunched up her nose. "I'm sorry. But your Coupling will be unique to you and science can't tell you anymore. And yes you will know when it happens."

Molly threw a rolled up napkin at her friend who was now laughing.

"Does it happen instantly? Will he walk into the cafeteria and I crumple to the ground?" She nervously glanced at the door.

"Generally not. Usually souls have to spend a small bit of time together before they are Coupled."

Meena took a deep breath. "And you are sure it's not Sherlock?"

Molly shook her head. "No. It's definitely not. I thought it was because I do feel a strong connection to him. I guess I was just waiting for the spark – which never happened. But how I feel for him makes no sense. He's found his Soulmate, John. You saw him yesterday coming into the morgue."

Meena nodded remembering running into the two men yesterday.

"Actually, I think there is a good chance that Sherlock knows your Soulmate."

Molly's eyes grew wide and her pulse quickened, "What do you mean? How?"

"Well, you say that you feel a connection with Sherlock. You saw him yesterday and last night you had the strongest Vision to date. In my professional opinion, that means that Sherlock is a conduit and he knows both you and your soulmate."

Quickly Meena drank her tea to hide her smile.

"You can't be serious … " Molly was wide-eyed with shock. "Sherlock knows us both?"

Behind her cup, Meena was nodding her head. "But seriously Molly, don't try to find anything out. You know as well as I do that the initial meeting can't be rushed. It you force it, it will all vanish. Just relax and enjoy it. You will meet your Soulmate when you are both ready. Now we both need to get back to work!"


	3. The Well-dressed Man

Mycroft stood with his hands on his hips staring down the floor-to-ceiling window of his office at the hustle of London below. He heard Anthea come into his office but his eyes remained on the streets.

  
"I don't know how much longer I can stand this, Anthea."

It had been three weeks since his first Vision. He had indeed figured out it was Molly Hooper during the first and the next four had only alerted Mycroft to the fact that her lab assistant was stealing drugs and Sherlock was a shit. Nothing indicated a meeting anytime soon.

"Sir you know there is nothing you can do to speed up this process. You just have to let Nature take its course."

"I know who she is and where she is. I could go to her now. What is the harm in just getting the Coupling over with?"

"It is highly unusual to know your Soulmate's details before the Coupling and if you move too fast the bond will disappear instantly – for both of you ― and your chance is gone. You have to meet when the time is right. It can't be rushed. By anyone, not even you."

"Last night she cried herself to sleep because of something Sherlock had said to her. From now on, if my brother so much as raises his voice to her, I will not be responsible for my actions." Mycroft let out a sigh.

"If the Coupling doesn't happen soon this country is going to go to wrack and ruin. I can't focus on anything – except her," he added quietly.

"Relax, sir. It will happen when it is meant to."

Mycroft gave Anthea the side-eye, which she returned with a smile as she left his office.

Moving back to his desk Mycroft sat down and for the sixth time that day he logged into the St Bart's CCTV system and watched Molly in her lab.

She was performing various experiments and by the list checked off on her whiteboard she had completed everything today and was just finishing up the last few experiments. It was 16:47pm.

He toyed with the idea of requesting Anthea change his password to London's CCTV network again but he knew if he did, this time would then cost him a small fortune. Last week, an afternoon of begging his PA had restored his access in exchange for an afternoon's shopping trip down the King Road. He was weak and he doubted Anthea would let him off as lightly a second time.

  
 Mycroft logged out, let out a big sigh and let his head drop into his hands. The longing he felt was now so overwhelming he was finding it hard to breathe. "Enough. I need to see her. Now."

  
//

It was 16:57 when Molly heard the measured footsteps behind her. She was in the middle of taking a reading on the last test of the day and didn't bother turning around as she spoke.

"I'm really sorry but any lab work you drop off now won't be processed until the morning. The tray is over there."

Molly pointed to the right without looking up.

A gentleman cleared his throat.

When she turned around Molly froze. Standing before her was a man wearing the most exquisite suit she had ever seen. His shoes were polished to a high shine and not a hair was out of place on his head.

"Molly Hooper."

The voice was smooth and hearing it caused Molly's stomach to do a flip.

"I've been waiting for such a long time for this Dr … Molly … Hooper." Each name was carefully enunciated.

All Molly could do was stare at the man standing in front of her. She had sort of assumed that there would be a bit of fanfare when her Soulmate appeared. Instead, the well-dressed man simply gave her a knowing smile, walked into her office, and returned with her coat and purse.

"Please," the man was now holding her coat open for her

"You've had a long day and I want to get to know you better. Let me take you to dinner."

Molly simply nodded, her heart pounding in her ears as she slipped her arms into her coat and took her purse. The gentleman tucked her hand into his arm and led her down the hall to his waiting car.

Settling herself into her seat and fastening her seatbelt, she looked at the well-dressed man.

"Um, I'm sorry …" stuttered Molly.

Embarrassed with her poor efforts, she valiantly tried again.

"Forgive me. You look very familiar. Have we met before? Because if we have, I'm sorry because I seem to have forgotten your name."

By now the car was travelling quickly through London despite the rush hour traffic.

"Heavens! Where are my manners? Mummy would have a fit. I believe you know my brother." He smiled, showing even, white teeth.

"In fact I think you might have dated him or at least tried to. His name is Jim and he works in IT. And no, I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting before."

He extended a hand to her.

"My name is Moriarty. Professor James Moriarty."


	4. A Toast ... To Us

When his phone began to ring, Mycroft's first instinct was to ignore it. He had made up his mind – and nothing now was going to stop him ― when Anthea rushed in.

"Sir, there's been a terrorist strike in one of our field offices."

Standing in the middle of his office with his coat on, Mycroft briefly gave Anthea a guilty look as she walked over and slipped his coat off his shoulders and pointed back towards his desk.

"You are needed here. Status update is coming through now."

The phone on Mycroft's desk began to ring again. He took a deep breath and picked up the receiver.

"What do we know about the situation?" His tone brooked no argument. 

The Ice Man was back.

//

Something was not right but Molly couldn't quite put her finger on it. She remembered the few dates she had with Jim and he never once mentioned a brother.

"Oh, umm. I do remember your brother." Molly blushed and looked embarrassed for having ended up with the wrong brother previously.

Moriarty gave Molly a toothless smile as he opened a hatch in the limousine and pulled out a small bottle of champagne and two glasses.

After pouring he handed a glass to Molly, "A toast … To us."

There were no fireworks but there was champagne, she thought as she took a big sip of the fizzy liquid. After a second sip, she felt a little light-headed and she watched through half-closed eyes as Moriarty took her glass from her, opened up the car window and threw the contents out.

Then he looked at his watch and shouted something at the driver.

Ice-cold fear filled Molly as her eyes grew heavy. This was not her Soulmate ― he was wearing the wrong watch.

//

Five confirmed dead, three of whom Mycroft had worked closely with in recent years.

The bomb was sending tremors through Whitehall both politically and emotionally. After a tense three hours, all Mycroft wanted to do was to spend the rest of his evening by himself in his library with a tumbler or two of his favourite scotch, hopefully slipping into a dreamless slumber. He felt guilty for wishing for a Vision-free night.

There was little more that could be done tonight and Anthea had taken pity on him and agreed to take the next briefing call at 9pm. She would wake him if necessary.

"Go home. You have had a long day. I'll call if I need you."

Mycroft gave Anthea curt nod as he closed the folder of recognisance photos and handed them to her.

Without warning Mycroft's office door burst open unceremoniously and a breathless Sherlock raced over to Mycroft's desk as John followed closely behind in a similar state of distress.

"I need your help, Mycroft. Please. It's Molly!" gasped Sherlock.


	5. Good Girl

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mycroft handed Sherlock's phone back to him, hoping the shaking of his hand wasn't noticed. Anthea and John stood near-by, both white-faced and arms crossed tensely looking at the brothers.

The small group had just finished watching a video introducing Sherlock to Moriarty's new pet, a very drugged Molly wearing a dog collar, complete with a leash and being led into a house.

Once inside Molly had been drawn into a bedroom with a big dog bed in the corner where she obediently curled up in the plastic bed on the floor.

Moriarty had stroked her head and said "Good girl."

He winked at the camera and the video ended.

Anthea watched as Mycroft swallowed hard – clearly trying not to throw up – his eyes filled with fear locking onto Anthea.

"Sherlock, you and John should come with me. I will give you access to the security cameras at Bart's. As you well know, the entrance and exit that Molly uses is covered by CCTV. See if you can get a license plate. We can run the number here – no need to ask Greg. It will take too long."

Anthea was already holding the door open for the two men.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" queried Sherlock as Mycroft remained in his seat and grew paler still.

"Sherlock, I … If Molly …" Mycroft could see Anthea give an almost imperceptible shake of her head as she locked eyes with her boss.

"I trust you can appreciate it was already a challenging day before this, Sherlock."

He spoke tersely, trying not to betray the fear he felt.

"I know Molly is a friend of yours … "

Mycroft took a deep breath, causing Sherlock to roll his eyes.

"I simply need a few minutes to compose myself."

Pushing himself up from his desk, Mycroft stumbled past the three and collapsed onto the leather couch that was up against the far wall in his office. A powerful Vision enveloped him as soon as he became horizontal.

"Oh God, Mycroft!" shouted John.

"I think he's fainted." He was shining a torch into Mycroft's eyes, while he kept his other hand on the other man's pulse.

Sherlock followed Anthea out of the office without looking back.

"Leave him, John. He's such a drama queen. He'll be fine. We need to start reviewing the CCTV."

John had no choice but to follow quickly.

//

Pushing herself up to a sitting position, Molly yawned and slowly stood up on wobbly legs. Her head hurt and her neck was sore. When she reached up, she found a dog collar was around her neck. She tried to take it off but she still felt so weak and gave up.

She rubbed her hands over her face. It seemed like there were two people inside her head. One was telling her to go back to sleep. The other kept telling her that she would feel better if she got a bit of fresh air.

Annoyed that voice wouldn't shut up, she slowly shuffled forward on unsteady legs. It was hard to walk. She wanted to go back to her basket so badly. But the voice kept screaming so her legs moved forward inch by inch. Finally she reached the window and she pulled back the curtain.

The window looked out on a tiny garden.

"That's funny," thought Molly. "This garden is much shorter than the others."

It was true. At the bottom of this house's garden was the brick wall of a shed, giving it only about 10 meters of lawn space when those on either side were 25 meters. To the left she saw the tower of a church. She wondered what church it was and if she would be able to hear the bells from here. Her eyes were heavy again and she wanted to go back to her basket. She felt so weak she didn't even bother to try to open the window but instead turned around and stumbled across the room.

Curling up again and ready to fall back to sleep, her eyes suddenly snapped open.

"GET UNDER THE BED!" shouted the voice in her head. "GET UNDER THE BED!"

Without thinking, she pulled herself across the floor and under the bed, where she promptly fell fast asleep.


	6. Mycroft? Is That You?

"Which way did the car go?"

With an intense look on his face, Mycroft burst into the monitor room where Anthea, John and Sherlock were watching a car drive through London rapidly.

"Footage shows it heading west on the A40. Towards Pinner," replied Sherlock without looking up from the grainy image of the car containing Molly on the screen.

"Perfect. Come on I know where she is."

Mycroft was already striding down the hall on the way to the lift, his phone was out and he was barking orders to his ground team.

//

Night had just fallen when Moriarty returned home to check on his pet. As he opened the bedroom door he called into the darkness, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Daddy's home. Did you miss me?"

He scowled. The drugs should have worn off by now and he fully expected Molly to be sitting in her basket shaking in fear. Turning on the light, he found the basket empty.

Moriarty let out an evil laugh. "Is kitty playing with Daddy? She knows Daddy likes games."

He tried again.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!"

Nothing in the room moved.

"COME OUT, KITTY! DADDY'S GETTING ANGRY!"

//

The command centre van was parked a short distance away from the house. In the back was a bank of monitors showing both the front and back doors of the house as well as the head-cams from the squad that was going to extract Molly.

Sherlock and John sat while Anthea and Mycroft stayed standing, eyes glued to the monitors. All had headphones on, Mycroft's had a built-in microphone.

"How the hell did he find her?" whispered John.

"He said he will explain it later," replied Sherlock under his breath.

All four of them instantly became tense as they watched Moriarty on one of the screens in front of them slowly climb the stairs and open the bedroom door.

Slowly Mycroft reached out and gripped the back of Sherlock's chair to steady himself.

Bile once again rose in his throat as he heard, "Here kitty, kitty …."

They saw Moriarty becoming more agitated, and screaming Molly's name repeatedly.

Then darkness …

Two shots – seen as bright flashes -- rang out causing the four to jump even though they expected it.

A collective breath of relief was released when the lights, and the image on the screen, came back showing Moriarty on the ground lying in a pool of crimson that came from the hole in his head and chest.

"Target down sir. No sign of Dr Hooper, sir. Room is clear." The voice of the field commander came loud and clear through the headphones.

"Under the bed. She is under the bed!" shouted Mycroft into his mic. His nerves were frayed and he was desperately hoping that it had worked.

Four agents, weapons at the ready, flipped over the bed while Molly's scream filled the headsets.

Sherlock and John let out exclamations of relief and Mycroft exhaled, unaware that he had been holding his breath for so long.

With a smile on his face Sherlock turned to thank his big brother only to see the back door of the van open and Mycroft moving towards the house rapidly.

By the time he got closer to the house, he was nearly running when he reached the ambulance gurney.

"Dr Hooper has been found. I repeat Dr Hooper is in our custody. She is being removed," came the crackle of the radio.

//

Molly had been awake for a while. Her head was much clearer now and even though she had found it odd that she woke up under the bed, something in her gut told her to stay put.

When she heard Moriarty come into the room, she forced herself to remain calm and stay quiet. After burst of gunfire, she was even more terrified to move, lest she be discovered.

Suddenly light flooded into her eyes as the mattress was harshly flipped off the frame. She cried out in fear.

"You are safe. Do you hear me, Molly? You are safe." There was a man dressed in black, kneeling next to her who was holding out his hands to show her he had no weapon.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. She took a deep breath and tried to stand, only to find herself scooped up by a very strong man in an all-black uniform.

Molly closed her eyes. She didn't want to see any more of this place ― all she wanted was this nightmare to be over. She felt herself being carried down the stairs that she had walked up a few hours before. The cool night air felt good on her face but she kept her eyes tightly closed.

"Here, bring her to me."

"Why do I know that voice?" thought Molly as she was gently set on the edge of an ambulance gurney.

Molly felt large hands steady her and wrap a shock blanket around her shoulders followed by a pair of strong arms. Her face met the soft wool of a suit and she smelled the lingering scent of expensive cologne.

Letting out a soft groan, she took a risk in opening her eyes.

"Mycroft? Is that you?"

"Shhh. I've got you." Mycroft hummed into Molly's hair, his lips gently kissing the top of her head.

In his arms, he felt her jerk as the jolt of the Coupling hit her. She let out soft groan and snuggled closer into his chest.

//

Sherlock and John were only about five metres from the ambulance when they saw the Coupling hit Molly. Shock and confusion had stopped Sherlock in his tracks, but Anthea caught him by his wrist just in case.

"Wait," whispered Anthea.

All three of them watched as seconds later Mycroft took a sharp breath and shuddered violently.

The Coupling of Molly and Mycroft was now complete.

Mycroft's gaze fell on his brother. With a beatific smile, on his face he hugged Molly even tighter.

"Now you can tell Mummy, Sherlock."


End file.
